Training Begins

Artik stood outside a StarBucks. He sighed. He used to have a glorious dojo. But then that damned shockwave destroyed it. He still has one on Orren, but that's docked at Vegeta.

After that debacle at West City, he felt all the great powerlevels in the universe go out. He shivered.

Finding themselves at the Lookout, they all agreed to go train and then try to take out the evil.


Rick Astley told him that a boy was going to come train.

Cyril, a blank look on his face, walked by StarBucks. His hat was askew and his clothing more dirty than usual. He looked as if someone had just told him he won the lottery but the taxes left him only $100. That is to say, so furious it left him depressed and crestfallen. He didn't seem to notice that other people were about and he bumped into anyone in front of him absentmindedly.

Artik blinked. "Cyril?" He ran out next to him. "You okay?" He blinked. "I wasn't expecting you. Or anyone I knew. Rick Astley told me a kid named Arai was heading to meet me." He shrugged. "Here. Let's get some tea. Or coffee. Or hot cocoa."

Cyril blinked a few times before he came to and recognized who it was. "Ah, Artik. Yes some cocoa sounds nice..." Cyril walked in with Artik.

Artik walked to the counter. "Cocoa and green tea."

The woman blinked. "Snookie?"

Artik paused, letting go of his anger. "... Yes."

"Oh! Then it's all on the house!"

Artik bowed and lead Cyril to a seat.

"Did.... did she just..?" Cyril begin laughing silently, "She just called you Snookie!" Cyril puts his head down ont he table and shakes with laughter. He stops and looks up with with a straight face again. "It's the hair." Cyril's composure broke again and he dissolved into giggles.

Arrik remained silent, watching Cyril's drink tip over into his lap. Then he began laughing. 'Telekinesis can be a bitch.' He sipped his tea. Warm.Mmm.

"Alright, Snookie," Cyril stood and dried himself off. He glared at the stain it left behind and mentally made plans to go to the laundromat. He sat back down and finished what was left in his cup. Cyril looked down at the table in a pre-occupied manner. "Think I needed that."

He sighed. "So, Cyril. Do you want to train under me?"

Cyril looked slowly up at Artik. His mouth agape and head turned at a slight angle. "Do I want to train under you?" Cyril asked in a ponderous tone. Cyril slowly pushed himself up from his seat still locking eyes with Artik. "Friend," Cyril addressed him, "I have seen things beyond imagination. I know things beyond the comprehension of man! I have seen magic, I've seen technology that people have only seen in the wet dreams of scientists everywhere, I've seen Hell and I've seen Heaven, I've seen gods, and demigods, and sideways gods, I've been outside this world, outside this universe, outside this plane of existence!" At this point Cyril very animated, wild. He was pacing around the table gesturing almost violently with a mad smile on his face. "I've seen the tiny bits that make us up, I've twisted and bent them to make entire species, I've made worlds, spun galaxies like chidren's toys!" Cyril grabbed Artik by the shoulder and led him outside where night was falling. "D'you see that light there? The galaxy? That was the one." Cyril was winding down and now he looked directly into Artik's eyes, "And now that damned dragon has taken away all my power. I've been killed three times and nothing like this has ever happened. But here we are," Cyril gave a crooked smile, "you offering me to train under you. Me. Cyril the Seraphim. And do you know what I say to that Artik?" Cyril got really close and looked almost offended. "Sure thing!" Cyril, with a wild smile, grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously.

Artik fell over. "Erk... Is that a Seraphim vendetta? I've seen that look. A long time ago..." He blinked. "What was I talking about? Ah. Training. Right." He thought a moment. "What do you know of the Z Fighters of old?" He figured he'd wing it from here.

Cyril shooks his had excitedly, "Absolutely nothing! Tell me about 'em" he said in an almost gleeful tone.

"Five hundred and some change years ago, there were a team of fierce heroes--- two Saiyans, three SaiyanHumans, three useless humans and a Chaz. Oh, and a Solar Saiyan." He winked.

"Ooo first hand stories."

"They all left a legacy." He sighed, "the useful ones, at least."

Cyril smiled, "I'm sure the supposedly useless people left some legacy." Cyrils eyes wandered "Not all victories are about saving the entire universe you know?" Cyril made a gesture to go on.

"Trick or treat!" "Oh, and who might you be?" "Yamcha!", Artik mocked.

"Yamcha? Is that.. a name? I always thought it was just a word. Meant hilariously useless." Cyril thought about all the times he had used it in conversation

"A word can be a name. Anyway. Go and retrieve something from the MOMA
" He smirked. "Goku's Gi."

Cyril blinked. "You lost me at MOMA"

Artik sighed. "Museum of Martial Arts. ;DD" He paused. "That Gi is the Museum's most priceless possession. For good reason. It gives the wearer great strength."

"Why do you need it? Can't just go steal some priceless artifact for no reason after all." Cyril said. "Well. That's not entirely true. But still..."

"It's not for me", he laughed. "A step in your training."

350W post of character stealing gi, guarded by Bushido Brown. (Look it up)

END.

+460 PL
+230 Z